I watched you
by scorpiaux
Summary: Kataang, OneShot. “I think it was because we both didn't know what we were doing.” Katara apologizes after her first adult experience with Aang. Rated M.


**I watched you**

**Summary**: Kataang, OneShot. "I think it was because we both didn't know what we were doing." Katara apologizes after her first adult experience with Aang. Rated M.

**Author's Note**: Many of you may/may not be asking about "Letters from the Falling Sky." I know that I'm really behind but I hope you'll cut me some slack! (smiles sheepishly and wipes away large, animated sweat drop)

Purpose of this? Get the old ATLA juices flowing again. Very sappy, just as a warning, up front. And also kinda pointless—just more Kataang/Katara character studies. Ah, in depth!

Give me yo' thoughts!

* * *

I just want to let you know that I'm sorry. I want to tell you, but you're still sleeping. And I'm not planning to wake you up any time soon. I'd rather die than do that. Just let you rest. Just watch you. It's easier to watch, Aang.

How did it go, again? You're only fifteen now, and you'd think that I'd be more experienced, all things considered. But was I? I'd rather forget, actually. Shove the whole thing away. You know what Gran Gran used to tell me? "It'll hurt, Katara." Then how come it didn't?

Why am I awake? I'm exhausted, Aang. Exhausted. Everything is sore. Everything is blaring at me—illuminating, shining. But I don't feel any different.

Closer to you?

Further from you?

Embarrassed.

I want to ask you if _you _felt anything, Aang. I'm curious. It's killing me, to sit here, watching you sleep. You have that same goofy smile pasted under your nose. You have a ridiculous stub of hair brushing over your head, over parts of your arrow. You have your hands clasped together underneath the pillow. I wonder what you are dreaming about. I slip out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

Have you ever looked at your body naked before, Aang? I'm sure you have. Everyone has. I've always been aware of my figure—it was nice, people said. Curvy, sculpted to look feminine. It attracted you to me. You held it last night, forced yourself inside.

What were the last words we said to each other—before it happened, I mean?

You were breathing too heavily for me to remember.

I'm sorry, Aang—I swear to you, I am. I should have done something. Should have held you. Should have breathed louder. Should have moved.

But everything went...still.

I think it was because we both didn't know what we were doing. Did you want me more than I wanted you? Or is it the male hormone that Gran Gran explained to me? It was too dark to see your features, to remember that I was sleeping with the Avatar—that people merely dreamed of this experience. That, out of everyone that was offered to me, personally, I slept with _you_. And now it's over.

It's always been easier to watch, Aang. Watch—learn waterbending. Watch—learn the other two elements. Watch—defeat the Fire Lord. Watch—you on top of me, working your way inside, breathing, moving. Kissing me.

The shower is cold. I look at my breasts. Round things. I took off my kimono and you stared at me with a strange, glossy film over your eyes. How many times did you dream of it, Aang? Be honest with me. Your hands were warmer than this disgusting shower water. Your ran your thumbs over my skin. And even though everything was warm, my body was covered in goosebumps—to have you this close. Touching me. And your reactions...or the one that grabbed my attention, at least...I—I should have...

I'm sorry, Aang. I should have touched you back. I swear to you—something else should have happened. Made it easier for the both of us, at least. I wonder if everyone's first time is as awkward and as stupid as this.

I wonder if we'll ever get a chance to do it again.

It's not like it was a bad thing, either. But I am conflicted. I am confused. I had an image of you that was contorted last night; an image that is still contorted, somewhat. When the boy you think you maybe-might-perhaps love shows you that he really does love you...it hurts, Aang. When you look in the mirror after a shower and watch yourself.

And Aang, I...well, I just want to let you know that I'm sorry. I want to tell you, but you're still sleeping. And I'm not planning to wake you up any time soon. I'd rather die than do that. Just let you rest. Just watch you. It's always been easier to watch. To observe distantly. To feel. Sometimes I feel it's all I'm any good for, Aang. Sometimes I know that if I don't watch you, no one else will.


End file.
